


Fancy Was Her Name

by der_tanzer



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-20
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Your friends paid for a whole hour.  Don't you want to get their money's worth?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fancy Was Her Name

**Author's Note:**

> Of all the Myrna scenarios yet written, possibly the first one where Murray actually gets some. And then goes home and gets some more.  
> 

"It's your first time, isn't it, honey?" She could always tell. They were always either nervous or arrogant. This one was nervous, and maybe more so than any she'd ever seen. He was also a bit older than the average first timer, but she didn't get paid to judge.

He nodded, smiling and blushing, beyond nervous and approaching scared.

"That's okay. I'm gonna take real good care of you." She took his hat from him, noticing as she did that he really had wonderful hands. Long and slender, almost but not quite delicate. Probably very skilled in some things, and perhaps able to learn this as well.

Myrna eased him out of his jacket, petting his thin body through his dress shirt. Skinny, yes, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He trembled under her hands as she worked the buttons, his skin breaking out in goosebumps as she exposed him to the air.

"Come sit down, honey," she said softly, leading him over to the bed. He sat stiffly at attention, as if a general might be coming in to inspect at any moment, and she felt moved to kiss him. She didn't always, but he was just too cute. She could no more have resisted kissing him than she could have passed a puppy without patting it. His blush deepened, and that was even cuter. "Here, you want me to even things up a little?"

She pulled her dress off over her head and stood naked before him, a working girl too busy for the refinements of lingerie. He smiled, still too nervous, and seemed to want to look away. But he couldn't. She was very good at her job. She placated him with kisses and non-threatening caresses, easing him out of his clothes almost before he noticed. When he did, he turned shy again, and she soothed him with sincerely meant compliments. Skinny he might be, but parts of him were admirable, and she didn't think he knew it. If he did, he surely would have been more arrogant.

"What do you want to do?" she asked when the worst of his nerves had turned to eagerness.

"I—I don't really know," he said, speaking for the first time. "What—what can I do?"

"Anything you want, honey." She climbed onto the bed, straddling his slender thighs, and his hands moved automatically to her hips. Some things were instinctual. She encouraged him to touch her, shivering in spite of herself at the feel of his gentle, tentative hands. It had been a long time since anyone had handled her with care or respect. Even men who wanted the illusion of a girlfriend tended to want one they could push around. But this guy—he wanted something else. She just wasn't sure what yet.

"Show me what girls like," he said at last. "What do you like?"

"I like whatever you do, honey." He might be different, but he was still a customer.

"Murray," he said softly. "My name's Murray. And that's what I want."

"If you insist," she shrugged. "Make yourself comfortable, and I'll show you something nice."

She pulled back the sheet and encouraged him to lie down, stroking the tension out of his body. No matter what she did, this wouldn't last long, but she was determined to please him. He was just a soldier; they passed through continually and she never saw any of them again, but this one was special. She knew in her heart that he would remember her forever, and she wanted that memory to be as sweet as possible.

The second time she straddled him, her tattooed thigh brushed his erection and he gasped sharply. Yes, definitely untouched, she thought, wrapping her hand around him carefully. He drew a long, shuddering breath as she pressed him into herself, and she felt an odd tingle of pleasure. It was so foreign she hardly recognized it at first, but pushing him deeper made it flare up undeniably. Yes, it was pleasure. He felt good, and that was –well, odd.

Before she could analyze it further, his long hands were on her hips again, squeezing gently, the tendons standing out in his arms and throat as he fought for control. Myrna remembered her job then and thrust hard, encouraging him to abandon his restraint. He cried out softly, his hands clenching unconsciously, leaving small bruises on her pale skin.

"That's it, Murray. Oh, that's nice," she moaned. It was the same thing she always said, but this time she meant it. It _was_ nice. And he had said that he wanted to know what girls liked. She shifted just enough to make him touch the sweet spot inside her, the spot that she normally guarded from her customers as the one thing that was still _hers_, and rocked on it until she came, crying his name. Murray followed immediately, startled out of all self-control, and his expression was one of mingled pleasure and shame. Exactly the one she didn't want to see.

"Oh, honey," she whispered, laying herself lightly on his chest. "Don't look like that. You were wonderful."

"Really?" he asked, his voice cracking in spite of his best efforts.

"Really. And I'm sure you'll be ready to go again in a few minutes."

"I—I can do that? I mean, don't you…" He trailed off, unsure how to say it. But she understood. Understanding men was her whole purpose in life.

"Your friends paid for a whole hour. Don't you want to get their money's worth?"

***

Murray hardly remembered the walk back to the hotel. His head was swimming, his body exhausted, and his new friends' conversation went mostly over his head. But he understood them. Not their words; that wasn't important. He understood why they'd taken him under their wing, and why they'd waited downstairs while he was with Myrna instead of finding girls for themselves. They were kind-hearted men whose love for each other made them able to care for strangers, too. Murray hadn't been exposed to a lot of people like that in his short, hurried life, but their hearts were open to him and he had eyes to see.

There was some sort of convention in town and rooms were scarce, but Cody managed to sweet talk a clerk into giving them one reserved for someone else when that guest was two minutes late checking in. Murray knew that Nick and Cody would have shared anyway, but he felt honored to be included, as if he weren't really a stranger. He was the one going to jail, and probably for quite a long time, but their love would make them criminals in the eyes of the Army, too, and they trusted him with their secret. Like he was one of them. Suddenly he wished he was. But he got into his bed alone, trying not to think too much about it, and turned toward the wall to sleep, giving them as much privacy as he could.

***

His dreams were sweet, but it wasn't Myrna that he dreamed of, and when he woke, it wasn't her name on his lips.

"Murray? You okay, buddy?"

"Hmm? Cody? Did I wake you? I'm sorry, I was just…" _dreaming of you_. But he couldn't say that. He bit it back, blushing hotly in the dark.

"You were calling me. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, I was just…" thinking fast, he improvised and came up with a plausible lie. "I was dreaming about the stockade, I guess."

Cody remembered his earlier conversation with Nick and sighed. The little guy really wouldn't last seven minutes in that place. It wasn't designed for the likes of him. But nothing in the Army was.

"You must be pretty worried," Cody said, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

"Scared to death is more like it. I've never been a coward, but I'd almost rather run away this time. If I could keep running forever, I would. But, damn it, I wasn't wrong. What I did—it wasn't wrong, even if the Army thinks it was. I guess when a man stands on principle, he has to take the consequences."

"Yeah, that's usually how it works," Cody said sadly. "But there might be something we can do. Nick and I have been talking about it, and we know some people. We might be able to help you get a new hearing."

"What? Who—how can you do that?"

"Maybe we can't, I don't know. But we're going to try, so don't go AWOL just yet, okay?"

"You—you'd do that for _me_? I don't understand."

"There's nothing to understand, Captain. You're a good guy and you're getting hosed, that's all."

Murray's relief was so sudden and complete, all the strength ran out of his body. Coupled with the sheltering dark and the haunting remnants of his dream, it made him do something he would have thought impossible three hours ago. He leaned forward and kissed Cody, soft and light. He was surprised when Cody kissed him back, and suddenly Murray was pulling away, trembling so hard the bed shook.

"I'm sorry," he said, over and over.

"No," Cody whispered. "Don't be sorry. It's okay."

"But—but Nick…"

"I'm right here," Nick said, surprisingly close. Murray didn't know when he'd gotten out of bed, or how he'd gotten there without them hearing. "It's okay if you want to kiss him, Murray. I understand."

There was a teasing note in his voice that both comforted and confused the frightened man.

"You—you do?"

"Sure. I want to all the time."

"But it's okay for you; you're—together."

"And how do you think we got together? We were in the jungle, scared to death. Now that doesn't mean we go messing around with any guy who wants us, because we don't. In fact, you're something of a first. Isn't he, Cody?"

"It's a whole night of firsts," Cody said, laughing a little. "So, are there any other firsts that you'd like?"

"What?"

"Anything else you want to try before you do or don't go to the stockade?" Nick asked, moving closer, laying a gentle hand on the bony shoulder. It was warm and solid and Murray felt a sudden surge of desire, mingled with guilt over wanting men who were so obviously committed to each other.

"I—yes," he said quietly. "I want a lot of things. I'm just not sure what."

"That's all right. We can show you, if you'd like."

"Yes, please," he said, his voice a little stronger now. Nick eased him down on his back and kissed him while Cody unbuttoned his pajamas. Two people undressing him in one day, three if you wanted to be particular about it. That was the biggest surprise of all; that interest in his skinny body could run so high. He gave himself up to their hands and mouths, and they showed him things that even Myrna hadn't known. But she was just a passing fancy. A special one, it was true, but not part of his real life. This—he didn't know how yet, but this was real.

As he fell asleep for the second time, coiled around Cody's body, Nick's hand warm on his neck, he knew he'd crossed an important line. Somehow these men would always be his friends, even if he went to jail. Even if he never saw them again. But he would. He was sure of it.


End file.
